


Despite It All

by katambrosius



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Desperation, M/M, Omorashi, Pee, Public Humiliation, Wetting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-16
Updated: 2018-03-16
Packaged: 2019-04-01 01:54:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13988013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katambrosius/pseuds/katambrosius
Summary: With a charming smile, Victor, who had already competed and was again sporting his Russian jacket, apologised profusely, saying Yuuri was needed back by the rink, and he hoped they enjoyed his program today.  Yuuri was sure they would, but not because he was going to perform very well.  The reporters would have a field day when he wet himself on the ice.





	Despite It All

**Author's Note:**

> Yuuri desperate while performing, as requested by the lovely Angel on the first of August 2017, seven and a half months ago. Thank you for your patience <3

Yuuri gripped Victor’s hand tightly and tried to ignore his shaking fingers. Victor’s face showed no sign of the pain he was no doubt in, and Yuuri took it as inspiration to hide his own pain, though his was coming from somewhere completely different. Why couldn’t they just let him past? He had a grand total of two minutes before he was expected on the ice, and that was hardly enough time to even undo his costume. He glanced at his fiancé and coach from the corner of his eye and knew it was too late anyway. 

With a charming smile, Victor, who had already competed and was again sporting his Russian jacket, apologised profusely, saying Yuuri was needed back by the rink, and he hoped they enjoyed his program today. Yuuri was sure they would, but not because he was going to perform very well. The reporters would have a field day when he wet himself on the ice. 

Yuuri took a breath and squeezed Victor’s hand again, halting that thought in it’s place. He wasn’t going to wet himself. He didn’t even have that much pee inside him. It was just his stupid nervous bladder. It was uncomfortable, and he’d probably leak on landings, but the dark fabric would cover it. Right? Victor pulled on his hand and he started walking. Just one foot in front of the other. 

It wasn’t so bad now, but he had four quads planned, and he couldn’t see any way that was going to end well. The crowd cheered as he came into view, and he pulled his hand away from Victor’s to wave. He could hold it. He had to. 

As he waited to be called onto the ice, Victor pulled him into his arms and Yuuri melted. The strength of Victor’s arms was so comforting that for a moment he couldn’t even feel his bladder, but the moment he stepped away, the urgent tingling was back. Yuuri took one last look at his fiancé and coach, before taking off his skate guards and stepping onto the ice. 

He took his position and waited for the music to start. He had a feeling this was going to be the longest four and a half minutes of his life. His first combination jump went well enough. His double toe loop was shaky, the landing of the quad had indeed sent a powerful jolt through his body. _Breathe, Yuuri_ , he reminded himself, and continued on. 

The quad Salchow did not go nearly so well. Yuuri stumbled badly on the landing, but avoided putting a hand down. He could hardly focus on anything except the moisture trickling down his thigh. _Breathe. Hold it_. 

He recovered slightly before the flip, managing to stop the flow and focus again. He wasn’t quite where he was supposed to be on the ice, but he was close enough, and not out of time. His bladder throbbed, and Yuuri struggled to keep his discomfort from showing on his face. When it came time for his triple Axel, his bladder chose just the wrong moment to spasm harshly, and Yuuri fell on his favourite jump, unable to get his feet in the right position under him. He squeezed his thighs together as he got up, and continued on, ignoring the newly warm sensation at his crotch. 

He could do it. He could hold it. Yuuri focused on Victor, on how proud he’d be of him for managing to get through this, for beating his anxiety this time. It gave him the strength to focus through the quad toe loop, and he couldn’t help but smile. He was sure his presentation score would suffer, he was much stiffer than usual, but Yuuri didn’t really care about winning this competition. His one and only goal was to get away without humiliating himself. 

He lost height on the triple Axel, stumbled on the single loop, and doubled the triple Salchow, but he got through the combination, and that was a win. He knew his crotch was wet, and he pleaded in his head for it not to be noticeable. The next combination was no better, doubling both the Lutz and the toe loop, but he maintained control. By this point there were no longer periods of relief and need, but a constant, throbbing, desperation that wouldn’t leave him alone. Yuuri estimated that once he got off the ice he would have a minute, if that, before he pissed himself where he stood. 

That was if he made it through the rest of the program. 

His step sequence was sloppy. His step sequences were _never_ sloppy. That, if nothing else, would cause talk. Victor would understand. Victor had skated desperate once, albeit not at a competition. Yuuri knew there would be no scolding from his coach this time. He turned his attention to his last jump. 

There was no way he could do a quad flip. 

No way at all.

Not in a million years. 

But changing it would mean admitting something was wrong. There was nothing he could do but try. So he did. 

Yuuri’s heart was in his mouth as he took off and spun through the air. Once. Twice. Three times. And four. Yuuri landed almost perfectly, his leg wobbling much more than it should, but his form flawless. He skated through his last spin, held the finishing pose while he waited for the final beat, and then headed off the ice as soon as could look natural. Victor was holding his jacket, which Yuuri wrapped around his waist instantly, and tried to control the heat in his cheeks. Hopefully people would take it as embarrassment after a less than spectacular performance. 

As he sat in the kiss and cry, he leant over to whisper softly in Victor’s ear, “Get me out of here, I’m soaked to the knees.” Victor’s eyes widened, and his eyes darted down. He could probably see the wet patch, the jacket didn’t cover that much. Yuuri’s legs were pressed tight together, and he was quivering. He prayed his score would be announced quickly. 

The seconds ticked by. Yuuri kept his eyes closed and focused on his breathing. Hopefully people would think he was just anxious about his results. Victor’s hand was gripping his thigh, it’s heavy weight reassuring. Grounding. _Breathe_. 

A burst of heat made him gasp, and his eyes flew open. Victor turned to him just in time to see his panicked face as a dribble turned to a weak stream. He fought to keep it inside, his muscles clenching with all their might, but they were just too tired. He’d held on so long, and now he just couldn’t. The stream turned to gushes, splattering to the floor as his body gave up. 

Yuuri let Victor pull him into his arms, and buried his head in his fiancé’s chest as the crowd went silent. Then roared. The cameras had already been aimed at him, everyone’s attention on his reaction to his score. Yuuri wanted to run, but he couldn't even move. His strength had abandoned him at the intensity of his relief, and he couldn’t do anything but sit there as the last bit of piss dribbled from him to the floor. 

His heart was beating so fast he swore he could hear it, and blood was rushing past his ears. Yuuri could do nothing to stop the tears that flowed freely down his face, and he sniffled into Victor’s jacket. Camera flashes were going off everywhere, and frantic yelling asked him if he was alright, what had happened. It seemed so stupid. Everyone could see what had happened. Everyone could see that he was _not_ alright. Yuuri sank even further into his seat, and wished the floor would swallow him up. 

Yuuri hardly even noticed when Victor stood up and lifted him bridal style. He hardly noticed Phichit breaking through the crowd to shove people aside and turn cameras away. He hardly noticed Yuri screaming at everyone around them. He just wanted to vanish. He wanted to be invisible. He ignored the world until Victor sat him down on a toilet and locked the door behind him. 

“Yuuri,” he said softly, kneeling on the ground and wrapping an arm around him. Yuuri looked up, blinking through tears and squinting. 

“I promise I’ll do everything I can to make this easier.”

No sweet nothings, no promises of it being alright, no asking how he was. Yuuri nearly sighed in relief. Victor knew him better than to think those things would help. He nodded numbly. 

“Do you want me to say you’ve been ill recently, and shouldn’t have competed, but you were too stubborn?”

Victor’s calm voice cut through some of the fog of panic and humiliation. Yeah. Yeah, that sounded alright. He nodded. 

“Yura’s already threatened people about publishing the photos. The live footage, we can’t get back, but some of the rest can be controlled.”

Yuuri hiccuped as the tears started anew. “Everyone _saw_ ,” he whined, his head falling forward, eyes screwed shut. 

Victor only nodded, and rubbed his back soothingly. “I’ll wet myself at the next competition, and everyone will forget.”

Despite it all, Yuuri laughed.


End file.
